


I'd do it all again for you.

by IzzyMay6363



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn, Time Travel, cannon universe with some divergence, multi chapter fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-21 06:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14278422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IzzyMay6363/pseuds/IzzyMay6363
Summary: Yuuri wakes to find himself in Hasetsu, Vicchan lapping at his hand and no sign of Victor anywhere. Confused and alone, he soon realises he's gone back in time, yet the reality he finds himself in is a little different to before. Having come second in the Sochi Grand Prix final he failed to be successful in the first time round, Yuuri realises that although he's gone back in time, events have occurred rather differently from the way he remembers them.He sets about to find out the truth about his new world, but there's one thing that has been bothering him.Where had all of the posters of Victor gone?





	1. Dreams and harsh realities

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy this story!
> 
> Having Yuuri stumble through a familiar yet unfamiliar world using the confidence Victor has given him will hopefully be an interesting dynamic. The tables have been turned, Yuuri! Go out there and get Victor back!

Yuuri’s entire body ached. 

 

He groaned. It was morning- sunlight was seeping through the curtains, peeking through the gaps in them at Yuuri's curled up body. He rolled over, burying his face into the pillow with a sigh. He hoped it wasn’t too late or Victor would sulk for the entire morning and that on top of his aching limbs would leave him in a very unpleasant situation.

 

The bed covers felt crisp and clean under his hands as he sat up. Yuuri frowned. He was sure that the sheets had been blue when he went to bed, so why were they white now? He gripped them in his hand experimentally, before pulling them off with a shrug. His memories of the previous night were groggy, as if they had happened a long, long time ago. Yuuri groped at them with little success. He could only remember how Victor had jumped on the bed with too much enthusiasm, knocking their foreheads together in the process. He had apologised with a sheepish grin, before falling asleep with Yuuri snug in his arms.

 

Victor was nowhere to be seen now, and the colour of Yuuri’s bed covers were white.

 

In fact, he noted with dismay, his hand looked different too- naked, bare... as if something was missing. For a moment he sat motionless, staring intently at the hand in front of him, before it came to him in a blur of confusion and panic.

 

The ring had gone.

 

Yuuri sprang out of bed and pushed the covers aside. Maybe the ring had fallen off in the night. Maybe it had rolled off the bed and that was why he couldn’t see it embedded in the blankets. Maybe… he checked the time (6:15, Victor should be in the kitchen) before scrambling out of the room in a flurry of flailing limbs and uncoordinated movements.

 

“Victor!” He shouted. “The ring, my ring, where? I-have you got it?” In his state of panic, he paid no attention to where he was going, falling unceremoniously onto the floor with a startled yell.

 

Yuuri turned. Whatever he had tripped over had made a whining sound and his eyes met with a startled looking Makkachin. 

 

“Sorry Makka.” He cooed, stroking the soft fur and rubbing his still weary eyes. Victor hadn’t shown up yet and Yuuri could feel himself starting to get worried. Victor was normally home to eat breakfast, throwing himself on Yuuri’s limp body with enthusiasm not meant for the early hours of the morning. Yuuri rubbed his face with his hand in an attempt to wake up a bit.

 

Then, with a jolt of realisation, his eyes snapped back to the poodle licking his hand.

 

It was small, very small, with chocolate curls of fur that were ruffled slightly from Yuuri’s touch. Makkachin, in comparison, should be much larger, with beige, almost silver coloured fur. How had Yuuri not noticed before?

 

“V-Vicchan?” He stammered, falling backwards. He hit the ground hard.

 

Vicchan yapped happily, bounding over to Yuuri again, but Yuuri drew back as if burned. 

 

“W-what, Vicchan, what?” He stuttered, eyes impossibly wide. With shaky breaths, Yuuri drew himself upwards and looked around. He was not standing in his apartment in St Petersburg. No, he realised, dread trickling down his throat and into his stomach, this was Hasetsu, his home in Hasetsu, and the dog at his feet was Vicchan, his lovely Vicchan, and Yuuri should be happy, should be ecstatic in fact, except he knew the harsh reality and had come to terms with it years ago.

 

Vicchan was dead.

 

Yuuri plodded back to his room, mind numb and thoughts grinding to a halt. Vicchan followed eagerly but Yuuri barely registered his presence. Going back to bed was a good idea. After all, this was probably a dream- maybe he was more homesick than he realised. 

 

The bed was comfortable and warm. Yuuri sniffed. It even smelled like his home in Hasetsu. For a dream, it felt eerily realistic, but Yuuri brushed those thoughts aside, a small smile ghosting his lips. Seeing Vicchan again was nice, even if it was just a dream, and he did miss his home. It was calming to bundle under the covers with Vicchan by his side again, knowing he could tell Victor about it in the morning. Lulled into a false sense of security, Yuuri allowed himself to drift back to sleep.

 

“Yuuri!” A voice snapped him out of his slumber and Yuuri shot upwards, arms outstretched. “Why are you still asleep? We’re celebrating today!”

 

Yuuri couldn’t breathe. He brought his hands to his eyes and pressed hard, mind clawing at the memories from his dream last night. 

 

“Yuuko.” He whimpered. “Why are you here?” The cogs in his mind were moving again, groaning and complaining. He remembered he had been in Hasetsu, no ring around his finger and Vicchan next to him instead of Makkachin. Scared and confused, he had gone back to sleep, deeming it a dream, but now…

 

“What do you mean? Everyone’s here. We’re all super proud of you after all!” Yuuri removed his hands from his eyes and stared at her.

 

“Proud?” He echoed, the words finally sinking in. 

 

“Of course! Yuuri, wake up already!” Yuuko laughed and stepped towards Yuuri, eyes gentle. “You did really well in the Grand Prix final.”

 

Yuuri was sure that Yuuko could hear the sound of the gears whirring and clunking in his head. Why was he in Hasetsu? The Grand Prix Final ended ages ago, so why was Yuuko saying they were celebrating now? With anxiousness brewing and bubbling in his stomach, Yuuri spoke again. Saliva was sticky on his tongue, but he choked the words out anyway. He had to know if the dream last night had been a dream, if the reality he was standing in now was different to the reality he had been in the day before. This was the deciding factor.

 

“Is Vicchan okay?”

 

Yuuko remained silent for a moment and Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief. Of course it was a stupid question- Vicchan had been gone for years. Confused as he was about his location, the dream he had in the night had definitely been a dream. 

 

Opening his mouth to play it off as a joke, Yuuri was interrupted by a frowning Yuuko.

 

“Vicchan’s fine, he’s with the others. Yuuri, are you okay? You seem a little out of it.” 

 

Yuuri froze.

 

The cogs in his mind were spinning out of control now, and there was nothing he could do to stop them. 

 

Yuuko watched Yuuri, frown becoming deeper at Yuuri’s obviously unexpected reaction. She put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he brushed her off, overwhelmed.

 

“What year is it, Yuuko?” Yuuri could feel Yuuko’s concern as her hand found its way back to his shoulder and squeezed hard. He knew he was trembling under her, but couldn’t bring himself to care. His mind was racing in a million directions, part of him begging Yuuko to answer his question and the other part screaming that if she didn’t answer and walked away none of this would be happening and he would be back in Victor’s arms once more.

 

“It’s 2015. You just finished your performance in Sochi remember? Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri swallowed hard. He was going to be sick. He was dreaming. Yuuko’s hand was warm and heavy on his shoulder. He wasn’t dreaming. He couldn’t be dreaming. Yet…

 

“I came 6th, Yuuko. That’s last. When I was in Sochi I came 6th! I was in Detroit! There’s nothing to celebrate!” Yuuri could feel the desperation seeping into his voice and he hunched over, the anxiety and confusion consuming him, washing over him in waves, drowning him.

 

Yuuko drew back, her features tightening into a look of worry. 

 

“Yuuri, you came 2nd. Then you came back here for a break. This isn’t funny anymore, okay?”

 

If he wasn’t dreaming and Vicchan was alive, then it really could be 2015. If that was the case, Yuuri had gone back in time.Yet his memories of 2015 and the situation he was in now didn’t match up. Yuuri had stayed in Detroit after his loss at the Grand Prix. He didn’t take any breaks, instead competing in the Japanese Nationals, and only when he lost there did he return to Hasetsu. Was this a different reality? 

 

Suddenly a new idea reared its ugly head, cold and mean and unwanted. Who was he to say that the world he was in right now was the dream, the incorrect version of his life?

 

Maybe his life with Victor had been a dream.

 

In a way, it made sense. Yuuri had been a skater like any other, but Victor had been beautiful and unique and lived up to the name he was given,a true living legend. To have Victor notice Yuuri, fall in love with Yuuri... it was something Yuuri had dreamed of long before Victor knew who he was.

 

He forced out a hollow laugh. 

 

“Yuuko, where are all my posters?” The walls, he had noticed, were looking as bare as his ring finger; not a trace of the love he and Victor shared was anywhere to be found.

 

The worry on Yuuko’s face made Yuuri’s stomach turn. 

 

“Yuuri,” she breathed, “there were never posters to begin with.”

 

The cogs in his mind crumbled to dust.

 

Yuuri could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks, hot and real and uncontrollable. Sobs racked his body, the loss and disappointment raking mercilessly at his insides. Fingers clutched at his hair and then his ribs as he desperately attempted to grip onto his memories of Victor, and as Yuuko’s frightened voice washed over him, like the sound of the sea-far, far away, Yuuri could almost pretend that the arms pressed so tightly around his sides were not his own, but Victor’s, the man he loved, but no longer had.

 

For Victor, in this world, was not here.


	2. Confusion and desicions

“Are you feeling better now, Yuuri?” 

Yuuri could feel himself nod, smiling a smile he was sure would crumble under the slightest scrutiny. Now that he knew he wasn’t waking up from this mess, he didn’t want to worry his family unnecessarily. His actions had consequences.

“Listen, everyone, I’m really sorry for causing trouble like this. I was just-” Yuuri faltered. It was better to lie and ease their minds than to tell unbelievable stories about time travel that would have them questioning his state of mind. “I was just a little overwhelmed by everything that had happened, I didn’t ever expect to place second. And I had a strange dream.”

It was a dream that had felt so real Yuuri could remember every laugh, every gaze, every touch, every hug. A dream where each tumble on the ice made him more determined, a dream where he was able to reach out and touch a star he had only been able to gaze up at in his childhood. A dream in which he found that underneath the brightness of that star, there was something much simpler, more fragile and human, and he fell in love.

He had been a flower, a flower that had proudly bloomed- flourishing, mesmerizing and beautiful- on the ice for everyone to see. For Victor to see. Yet now, everything they had worked so hard to build, the trust Victor had patiently waited for, the excitement Yuuri felt every time he realised his love for ice skating once more, it was all gone. 

Hands grasped helplessly at clothes. Yuuri raised his gaze to meet everyone’s worried looks.

“Really, I’m fine.” He assured them. This was supposed to be a celebration after all, and he was ruining it for them, not meeting expectations. He was letting everyone down.

There was no Victor to tell him that it was okay to want things for himself, that opening up to others was not a sign of weakness. Yuuri cowered under the concerned faces of his family.

Suddenly he was itching to leave. “I’m going to have a shower and wake up a bit.”

*

The water cascaded over his arms and hurtled down the drain. Yuuri leaned into it, allowing the droplets to dampen his hair and drum into his skull, drowning out the swarm of negative thoughts. He needed to think clearly.

Back in the other timeline, Yuuri had just won silver. Detroit and Japan abandoned, he moved to St. Petersburg to train with and be coached by Victor.

In this timeline, Yuuri had also just won silver. Was it a sign..?

“How can you possibly tell me to return to skating when you’re retiring?”

He turned the shower off, watching as the last of the water dripped from his hair and into the gutter. Yuuri had been allowing everything Victor had taught him to be forgotten and abandoned, simply because he assumed that in this new timeline Victor had abandoned him. He had taken Victor for granted before.

This time, he would not wait for Victor to come and rescue him. He wouldn't quit skating. Yuuri would find Victor himself.

Yes. He couldn't stop now- giving skating up was giving Victor up.

The shower had been unusually quick, but he couldn’t ask his family about ice skating and Victor without looking suspicious. Having a shower was the best excuse he could think of to buy himself some time. Yuuri would research Victor himself.

He found his fingers shook a little as he typed Victor’s name into the search bar. How different was he in this new reality? Was he the one who beat Yuuri to the gold in Sochi? Yuuri gulped a little. Did he ice skate? If not, how would Yuuri find him?

Another thought was wriggling its way to the forefront of his mind, but he shoved it back down.

In this version of reality, did Victor even exist?

After what felt like hours and hours of sitting and waiting, the page finally loaded. Articles sprung up, articles about ice skating, Yuuri realised, and breath flew out his lungs as he choked out air he didn’t even realise he’d been holding in. Relief warmed his entire body- Victor was involved in ice skating. Yuuri could find him again. 

Wiping watery eyes, he looked back at the different articles available to read.

He pressed on the top one tentatively.

The Sochi Grand Prix has whizzed by, and what an exciting event it has been! With Swiss skater Chris Giacometti snatching gold and Jean Jacques Leroy taking bronze, fans of the sport have been going crazy over the results. Adding to the excitement, the skating world was given quite a surprise when Japanese figure skater Katsuki Yuuri placed second, earning himself a silver medal. With breathtaking performances on the ice and a gentle and loving nature off of it, we cannot wait to see what he brings to the world in the next competition of the season.

Yuuri could feel the heat rising in his cheeks at the praise, and quickly moved on to read the rest of the article.

Chris had won. Jean had come third. The order of the skaters was almost identical to the other reality except for two things: Yuuri had placed second and Victor had not placed first. 

Victor was not the one to beat Yuuri. Then where-

His breath came in small, controlled puffs as he sought to rationalise the situation.

So far, Yuuri had woken up with Vicchan and all of his important family members beside him. Therefore his immediate family and relationships with them hadn’t changed. It seemed as though the most drastic alterations to his life had occured in relation to skating and those changes (at least the ones he was currently aware of) seemed to have taken place at the Sochi Grand Prix.

Yuuri had placed second. Chris had won.

Victor was nowhere to be seen.

Yuuri gulped and continued to read, panic starting to seep into his body. Shaking off the feeling, he set his jaw and blinked away moisture pooling in his eyes. This article had appeared when Yuuri searched Victor’s name. Victor had to be involved somehow.

Victor Nikiforov, a friend of our gold medallist, had much to say about the results! He was absolutely ecstatic, claiming to have “jumped up and down” when watching Giacometti’s stunning performance. Nikiforov was unable to make it to the final to spectate, but was able to congratulate his friend at the banquet soon after. Find out more about Nikiforov’s situation here.

Victor hadn’t made it to watch the final? He hadn’t skated? Yuuri sat stock still, finger hovering over the link. Victor was still friends with Chris. Everything else was exactly the same as he remembered it being before except for two things: his and Victor’s situation and lives.

There had to be a reason.

“Yuuri! Let’s celebrate! Come on!” Minako’s voice floated into the room, an incessant drawl that startled Yuuri and forced him out of his stupor.

“I’m coming!” He called. Around the phone, his knuckles were white.

The celebration was quaint and went smoothly; despite the circumstances, Yuuri found himself feeling warm in the environment. Having lived in St. Petersburg for a while, he really missed his family.

When the subject of skating was brought up, Yuuri finally let out what had been gnawing at his insides.

“Have any of you heard of Victor Nikiforov?”

The reaction was immediate. Minako whipped around and pinned Yuuri with a sly smile.

“He’s a hottie, isn’t he, Yuuri? But not as hot as Chris!” She leaned forward with a glint in her eye and Yuuri shifted uncomfortably.

Yuuko nodded at Minako’s words and added:

“Everyone’s heard of Victor. He’s an extremely beautiful skater, but for some reason he quit last season. No one is really sure why, but he doesn’t appear at public competitions anymore. Apparently, he showed up at the banquet this year though, so you would have seen him, right Yuuri?”

Yuuri stilled. Again, he had no memories of the banquet, and although this time it was because he had been dumped into an alternative timeline with no prior knowledge of what had occured in it (a slightly more complicated reason than drinking away his sorrows) it still meant he had no recollection of whether he had interacted with Victor or not.

“Yuuri… did you meet him?” Minako asked, breaking his train of thought.

“Ah! Um, well, you see, it was rather busy, so I don’t recall…”

“Yuuri! He’s so handsome! You missed such a great opportunity! Especially since he doesn’t appear in public or at competitions anymore.”

Minako continued to whine, but Yuuri was focused on one thing: Victor could skate, and so Yuuri could save him. Victor had been at the banquet, which meant that there was a possibility that they had interacted...which could be good or bad depending on how much Yuuri drank. 

Either way, it all boiled down to a single thing: Yuuri needed to discover what had caused Victor to stop skating. 

Later that night, Yuuri lay staring at the ceiling. He was worried- the entire situation felt so absurd and complicated and he didn’t feel strong enough to tackle it. The original euphoria he felt when he realised Victor could still skate had faded, and he was left feeling empty, as if someone had carved out his insides like a pumpkin. Even if he decided to skate again, Victor would not be there as his competitor, nor as his coach. He wouldn’t even be there in the stands for Yuuri to seduce or entice, to dedicate his performances to.

Why had Victor stopped skating?

Whilst brooding, an idea appeared at the forefront of his mind ,a beam of light in muddled and cloudy darkness. Yuuri scrambled blindly for his phone and scrolled through his contacts.

He had his number.

“Yuuri! What a lovely surprise, I didn’t expect you to call!”

Yuuri coughed a little and attempted to keep his voice steady. “Chris, I need to ask you something.” 

“Anything you like, Yuuri.”

“It’s about Victor.” Yuuri began. “Ah! I mean Victor Nikiforov. Is it alright if I ask… why did he stop skating?”

Yuuri could hear the sound of Chris breathing on the other side of the phone, but no answer came. Faltering, Yuuri began to come up with an excuse and brush it off as a stupid question, but was interrupted .

“Honestly Yuuri, I’m not really sure myself. He became really distracted at competitions, and then he lost motivation to skate, I think. He never really told me.”

Yuuri began to smile. He wasn’t sure why exactly, but Chris’ words calmed him down rather than making him worried. After all, Victor had felt exactly the same in his previous timeline and Yuuri had been able to save him, giving him the inspiration he needed.

“Yuuri?” Chris sounded uneasy on the other end of the phone, “Are you alright?”

Yuuri took a deep breath.

“Chris, can I have Victor’s number? I want to talk to him about his future skating plans.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I managed to bring out Yuuri's ability to overthink things here! Haha. Hope you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't find the date of the Sochi Grand Prix, so if it's wrong, consider it a canon divergence. I'm really sorry if it's incorrect!
> 
> On a brighter note, I will update regularly!


End file.
